Captured
by zoey04
Summary: Alternate ending to Eternal Danger. What if the pilots hadn't been able to make it to the safe room in time? What would have gone differently if they had been captured? takes place at beginning of chapter eight. please R&R *DISCONTINUED*
1. Chapter 1

**So this is what would have happened if the pilots had been captured at the beginning of chapter eight of Eternal Danger. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 8

Captured

Without another word, they kicked in the door and armed OZ soldiers ran into the room. I jumped up, grabbed my gun, and was able to fire off two shots before I was tackled from behind. The soldiers cuffed me and hauled me to my feet just in time to see Heero swing his leg up and catch one guard in the chin before getting grabbed also. No one else was able to get away either and we were loaded into the back of a van. The soldier slammed the door and the five of us were left alone in the pitch dark.

"Well this sucks," I huffed, leaning back against the cold metal wall of the truck.

"Oh no really?" Trowa's irritated voice echoed from somewhere in the darkness.

"What are we going to do?" Quatre asked from somewhere to my left.

"We have to do something," Wufei muttered from right in front of me.

"If you have any ideas we'd love to hear them," Heero snapped from next to me on my right.

"No, but at least I'm thinking, Yuy," Wufei snapped back.

"Guys! Shut up! Arguing isn't going to get us anywhere! We can come up with something if we all put our heads together. We are Gundam pilots after all," Quatre put in.

It was silent for a few moments as we all thought of ways to get out of this situation. I heard a light thud, then another a few seconds later, then another one. Someone was banging their head against the wall. I shook my head. _Stay focused,_ I told my self. I need to think of a way to get us out of here.

"I can't think of shit," I sighed in frustration, leaning my head back against the bullet proof wall of the truck.

"Me neither," Trowa pitched in.

"Keep thinking," Heero demaneded.

"You keep thinking," I shot back.

Something hit me hard in the side. Probably Heero's elbow. I stuck my tongue out at him and continued to think. Closing my eyes and breathing deep, I tried to relax myself. If I could calm down, I might be able to think more clearly and rationally.

I heard footsteps and I knew someone was walking around. The footsteps continued over to the door, then stopped. I tried to focus my eyes, but I still couldn't see my hand in front of my face in this darkness.

"Does anyone still have their phone?" I suggested, feeling in my pockets.

"Even if we did, it's not like we'll get a signal in here. The walls are too thick," Heero pointed out.

I sighed. It was worth a try.

"Keep thinking," he said, his voice soft and just over a whisper. Was he losing hope? Had he given up? It sure sounded like it. Maybe he had something up his sleeve. Yeah, that sounded more like Heero.

I continued to think anyway, trying to relax and get comfortable on the hard metal bench. The truck made a sharp turn to the left and whoever was standing near the door fell back into my legs. I put out my arms to help him up.

"Thanks," Quatre murmured, standing again.

"What are you doing?" I asked him.

"Trying to figure a way out of here," he answered, turning back towards the door.

I stood and felt my way over to the door, trying to help him out. It was just a huge steel door with a crease down the middle where the two sections met. There were no handles, no levers, no buttons, no indentations, nothing. I sighed, running out of ideas. I did think of something. It was a long shot and probably pointless, but what the heck. It's not like anyone was coming up with any other ideas.

"Let me try something," I told Quatre and he sat back onto the bench.

I breathed in, then lifted my foot and kicked at the door with as much strength as I could muster. The door didn't move in the slightest and I was left with a sharp pain that vibrated through my whole body. I fell to the ground grabbing my leg.

"Let me guess… It was Duo that tried to kick the door down?" Heero guessed sarcastically.

"Yes," Quatre answered, as I rolled around on the ground.

"Idiot."

"Well someone had to try it! It's not like we have any other ideas," I defended, sitting up as the pain quickly turned into a numb, empty sensation.

An hour later, or so it felt, found me lying on the bench with my feet in someone's lap, probably Quatre's. My right leg was still tingling from trying to bust open the door. I think either Wufei or Trowa was asleep on the opposite bench and the other was sitting on the ground with his back against the bench right in front of my head. My eyes still hadn't adjusted to the utter darkness and I didn't think they ever would. But I had also expected to be at the base by now. They must've been taking us to the San Fran base, which meant another hour and a half plus of waiting in the dark. I had tried to fall asleep to pass the time, but was unable to on the hard, cold, uncomfortable bench.

Whoever I had my feet on fidgeted.

"Just tell me to move my feet if your uncomfortable," I mumbled, keeping my eyes closed.

"I don't care," Heero muttered in response.

It was Heero? Interesting… I moved my feet. He said he didn't mind, but I wanted to keep them, so better safe than sorry. I sat up, rubbing my eyes. The end of my braid tickled the back of my hand and I pulled it in front of me to play with it. I was tired, but couldn't fall asleep. I tried to think, but I couldn't form a coherent thought. The van took a sharp turn to the right and I almost tumbled onto whoever was on the floor next to me. Whoever was asleep on the opposite bench woke up with a start. I think it was Wufei.

It wasn't too long after that when the truck came to a sudden stop, then turned off. The back doors flew open, flooding the truck with light, blinding us all instantly. Someone was grabbing my cuffs and pulling me out of the van. I swung my leg up, making contact with the man's face. The second he left go of my cuffs, I took off running, not really sure where I was going. But I didn't get far. Someone grabbed my braid and threw me down onto the asphalt, beating and kicking me. Wufei was tackled to the ground right next to me and he struggled against the men holding him down. The butt of a gun came down on the back of his head and he was out.

When they got us all either secured or unconscious, they started to drag us towards the enormous base. One man had an unconscious Quatre slung over his shoulder and another was leading Heero, who had blood pouring from his nose and a split lip. Trowa was still struggling against the man holding him, which only deserved him a hit over the head with a gun butt. Heero and I were the only ones alert now as they shoved us through a metal door and into an artificially lit hallway. It was the prison. Huge metal doors slid open and they threw us all in, closing the doors back up and leaving us in the dark.

My eyes seemed to adjust better in here. Maybe it was due to the crack under the door than let in some light, or the fact that my eyes were already so used to the dark. But whichever it was, I could make out Heero sitting with his back to the far wall and Trowa, Quatre, and Wufei still unconscious on the ground.

"You okay Heero?" I muttered, wiping away the blood streaming out of my nose.

"I'm fine," he mumbled in response.

I checked the others to make sure they were still breathing, then rolled them onto their sides, which wasn't easy considering I was cuffed. My head throbbed painfully as I sat, leaning back against the wall across from Heero.

"How are they?" Heero asked.

"They should come out of it soon. They aren't dead if that's what you were wondering," I joked.

Just then, someone started to come to. I heard Quatre moan as he sat up and rubbed his head. He tried to stand, but wobbled and fell back onto his butt.

"Where are we?" he slurred.

"In an OZ prison. You should lie down for a while. You got hit pretty hard on the head," I told him.

Without another word, he laid back down.

"Don't fall asleep though. You shouldn't sleep with a head injury," Heero told him.

"Whatever," he muttered, rolling onto his side.

It was quiet for a few heartbeats before Wufei shot up with a gasp, jumping to his feet, then cringing. He looked around and moaned, raising his cuffed hands to feel his head. He staggered over to the wall and fell back against it, slidding down into a sitting position.

"This is an OZ prison isn't it?" he asked.

"Uh huh," I answered, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the thick metal walls.

"Crap," he mumbled.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Heero muttered.

"Ugh. Where the hell am I? My head is killing me," Trowa groaned, rolling over. "Judging by the cuffs, I'm guessing I'm in an OZ prison."

"Yup. Welcome to the world of the living, buddy," I joked.

"Great," he mumbled sarcastically.

I slid down the wall and onto my side. I was tired and I hoped that I could get at least a little sleep. I heard faint snoring and unless it was Heero, whoever it was shouldn't be sleeping with a head injury. I think it was Quatre.

"Quatre!" I shouted and he jumped up and looked around. Yup, it was him. "I told you not to sleep. You sleep with a head injury and you might never wake up."

"Whatever," he grumbled, laying back down.

After a lot of effort, I was able to fall asleep. But I was woken up what seemed like moments later by the door opening. I sat up and raised my hands above my head as instructed. One of the soldiers grabbed the first pilot he could reach. Quatre. They dragged him out of the room by his hair and into the hall, closing the doors behind him.

"Interrogation time," Heero murmured under his breath.

"Damn," Trowa grumbled.

"Nobody tell them anything," Wufei demanded, his voice hard.

"We aren't stupid," I retorted.

"Hopefully that goes for Quatre as well," he muttered under his breath.

"What's your problem? Don't you trust him? We are all fighting for the same cause and he knows just as much as we do that any information at all is too much information," I snapped, standing and facing him.

"I'm just being realistic! Depending on what they are trying to do to get information, Quatre might give in to protect his own skin!" he shot back.

"We are all willing to die for our cause! Including Quatre! Have some faith Fei."

"I just think—"

"Will you two shut up! Quatre isn't going to spill and they aren't going to kill us. We're too valuable," Heero interrupted. "I have a severe headache and I don't feel like listening to you two bitch over a pointless subject. We are all tired, we are all stressed, so lets just shut up and remain calm."

I sat back down on the wall, glad to follow those orders, but I couldn't calm down, knowing what was coming. Whatever they were doing to Quatre right now I could expect to be done to me. Oh well. I was a Gundam pilot. I could handle anything.

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**So? I liked it. I'm still milling over ideas, so I might not be able to post the next chapters as quick as I usually do. Sorry about that, but I will keep working on it. Promise. Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So I got this up much sooner than I though. Yay! Hehe. Enjoy!**

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Chapter 9

Interrogation

It was about an hour, as far as I could tell, before they threw Quatre back into the cell. They grabbed Wufei's collar and dragged him out next. I walked over to where Quatre was sitting up, shaking. There was blood everywhere. In his blonde curls, streaming from his nose, dribbling out of his mouth, and pouring form a large gash across his arm. They had beat him up bad. I didn't even think about the fact that was going to happen to me. I ripped off the bottom of my undershirt and wrapped up his arm. He just stared at the ground next to his feet, unmoving, mindless.

I had to ask. "Did you tell them anything?"

"No," he breathed.

I gave him a pat on the back. "I trusted you."

He laid down and I soon heard soft snoring. I let him sleep. He needed to relieve a little bit of stress. I'll check on him in a little while to make sure he's not dead. I forced myself to stay awake. I already got some sleep and I need to stay alert now that they were pulling us in for interrogations. More like torture. I found myself dreading my turn. It took about half the time for them to bring Wufei back than it did for them to bring Quatre back. It was probably because Wufei was so good at holding a poker face, no matter what they put him through. He looked worse than Quatre did, but I didn't have time to check because they grabbed my braid and dragged me out of the room.

The bright lights nearly blinded me as they led me down the hall and into a room. It was a small metal room with a small medal table and two metal chairs. There was blood on the floor and on the table that made me shudder. They threw me into one of the chairs and one of the soldiers sat in the other. As soon as I saw his face, I recognized him immediately. It was Jason's father.

"So, I know that you and your friends are the Gundam pilots. I will offer you the same deal I offered your other friends. If you tell me what I want to know, I will let you go."

"Yeah, right," I scoffed, which earned me a hit on the back of my head with the butt of a rifle.

I winced and Jason's dad sighed. "Who is behind the Gundam operation? I know you five teenagers aren't capable of pulling this off on your own."

I didn't say anything. I just stared at him. One of the guards hit me on the back of the head with his gun and I spun around.

"Would you cut that out?! I can't think with you—" but I was quickly cut off by the guards fist in my face.

I raised my cuffed hands to wipe the blood from my split lip. I had a searing headache from getting hit on the head so many times, but that was my goal. If my head got all fuzzy from the blows, I would be numb to all their next torture techniques. And it was working, because I could feel the feeling starting to drain from my fingers and toes.

"I'm going to ask you again. Who's in charge of your operation?" Jason's dad asked.

"I wanna ask a question first," I told him, but got another hit on the back of my head.

"It's okay. You can ask, but I won't guarantee that I'll be able to answer."

"What's your name?"

"Why?"

"I just want be able to put a name to the pain," I answered, then prepared for another blow, but didn't get one.

"General Cain."

"Ah. General. So you're pretty high up there," I said, leaning back into the chair.

"Enough about me. What's your business here in America?"

"Came here for the view. Heard the valley was beautiful in the spring," I lied with a smile.

He nodded slowly. "Okay. What's your _real_ reason for coming here?"

I shrugged and got clubbed in the back of the head again. I played up the role and cringed, rubbing my head.

"Fine. Let's try a different line of questioning. Where did you get your hands on fifteen plus sticks of C-4?"

"C-4? That stuff is awesome," I grinned.

He nodded slightly and I felt a hand on the back of my neck. Two fingers found my pressure points and I exhaled. No amount of numbness could suppress this. The fingers squeezed and pain shot through my whole body. I became practically immobilized.

"Tell me what your mission is," Cain demanded, his voice harsh and as cold as ice.

"I don't have one," I managed.

"Don't give me that crap," he shouted, slamming his fist into the table.

The guards dragged me to my feet, one of the hands still on my pressure points. Cain walked around the table and up to me.

"Why are you here?"

"Vacation."

His knees came straight up into my gut and I doubled over, the breath knocked out of me. The guards released me and I fell to the ground. The blunt end of a steel-toed boot slammed into my side and I'm sure that my rib was broken. A guard rolled me over with his foot and dragged me up by my collar. He slammed my back up against the hard metal wall, my feet dangling a few inches from the ground, and a fist came into contact with my jaw. I was so glad I wasn't feeling any pain. The guard released me and I slid down the wall.

"Duo Maxwell, isn't it? My son has told me so much about you," the General continued. "He says that you are close to a Trowa Barton. I'm guessing he's in the holding cell along with your other friends. What are the others names? They wouldn't tell me."

"I don't know them."

He chuckled darkly. "I know that's a lie. And I don't like liars," he added, all humor gone.

A fist came into my gut and I couldn't breath. Again.

"You know, your son isn't very smart. I see now where he gets that," I spat hurriedly. I was passed being good humored about this. Now that I was numb against every hit, I didn't need to be so reserved.

It was the Generals turn to hit me. His fist came hard straight into my face, most likely breaking my nose. The fresh blood streamed down my face and the General lifted me off the ground by my neck.

"I'm pretty sure this is illegal," I breathed.

"Talk about my son again and I swear to god…" he hissed.

"Is that a threat? Cause I'm pretty sure that's illegal too dumbass."

He punched me again. "I'd watch your mouth if I were you."

"Make me asshole."

His fist came into my face again.

"I'm reporting you," I told him, struggling to breathe through my broken nose and the General's grip on my neck.

He laughed sadistically, dropping me back onto the ground. I gasped as the oxygen flooded my stinging lungs. His boot came into my side, then he backed off, sitting back down in his chair and putting up his feet.

"I can do this all day Maxwell. And I'm not afraid to do it either. And by the way, I have clearance to do all of this," he told me.

The two soldiers lifted me to my feet and threw me into the blood soaked chair. I leaned down, resting my forehead against the cold, bloodied table. My numb, pounding, fuzzy headache wasn't holding off the pain anymore. I forced the air into my lungs, ignoring the searing pain of a few broken ribs. Jason's dad kicked the table, jolting me up.

"Who sent you here?" he asked me.

I groaned. "Really? More questions? I can't even think straight anymore. I'm bleeding from almost every orifice and have a searing headache. Can we do this a little later?"

I got a riffle to the back of the head.

"Not helping!" I spun around to glare at the soldier.

"Hit him again," the General demanded.

I was able to block the first blow, but the second guard grabbed my arms and the butt of the gun came straight into me face. I was on the edge of unconsciousness. The guard released me and I slumped onto the floor, forcing air into my burning lungs.

"So have you reconsidered cooperating?"

"Nope. I don't negotiate with terrorists," I breathed.

He drew his gun and pushed a round into the clip, cocking the service revolver.

"Now _that_ is illegal," I told him as he walked up to me.

"I have clearance," he told me, pointing the gun at my chest.

I laughed, ignoring the pain. "You can't get clearance for murder!"

"Who sent you?" he asked again.

"You don't scare me."

He lowered the gun a few degrees and buried the bullet in my foot. I held back the cry of pain, but just barely. No amount of fuzziness in my head would block that kind of pain. I rolled onto my side, grabbing at my foot and biting my tongue to keep from crying out.

"Tell me who sent you," he demanded, slowly, loading another round into the clip.

"No," I said stubbornly.

He cocked the gun and aimed it at my other foot. Without thinking, I raise up my good foot and kicked the gun out of his grip. Before I could even realize what was happening, the two guards jumped at me and hit me with the butts of their guns. I could feel the icy grip of darkness reach up and pull me under.

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**Poor Duo! I felt so bad writing this, but it was so fun XP The only reason I got this chapter up so soon was because I didn't have any math homework, so I probably won't be able to get the next chapter up tomorrow, but I'll try. Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay! Finally posting the next chapter! All thanks to my genius friend ShinigamiDeathscytheSan. She wrote the majority of this chapter. Thank you my good friend! XD**

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Chapter 10

Failed

When I came to, I found that I was back in the holding cell with the other pilots. Minus one. Trowa was gone, I realized as I rolled over, my head searing. I sat up slowly, my head feeling like it was about to explode. I was in the middle of the room, and I saw Heero in the back, sitting against the wall, looking like he could possibly be asleep. But I knew him better than that. He was thinking.

"Heero?" I asked, my voice scratchy and hoarse and barely above a whisper.

"Yes?"

"Have they questioned you yet?"

"No."

"How long have they had Trowa?"

"Almost an hour, as far as I can guess," Quatre answered from right behind me.

I nodded, then laid back down. I looked down at my feet and saw that my left boot was off and my foot was all wrapped up. That's when I remembered that I had been shot. I sat back up and pulled back the makeshift bandages to see the damage.

"The bullet went all the way through and missed bones and vital blood vessels, so if you leave it alone, it should heal pretty quickly," Quatre told me.

"And you know this how?" I asked, staring at the hole through the top of my foot.

"I checked it out when I bandaged it."

I nodded, then put the bandages back. I tried to take a deep breath, but couldn't, and every time I tried, I was nearly doubling over with the pain.

"Oh, and don't breathe. You have three broken ribs, two of which are compressing your right lung."

"I'll make sure I do that," I joked, holding my breath.

Quatre giggled, then winced. Just then, the doors open and they threw in Trowa. He was still conscious, but just barely. I helped Quatre check him over, then wrap the knife wound on his upper arm. The three men walked over to Heero and stared down at him.

"Come with us pretty boy," they told him and, when he didn't respond, aimed their rifles at him.

I could tell he was struggling to come up with a plan, but couldn't. Reluctantly, he stood and walked out of the room, followed closely by the three guards.

The doors closed and locked behind them and I turned to the others. Wufei was leaning against the wall, possibly asleep, his arms crossed over his chest. Quatre and I were trying to tend to Trowa, who was starting to come out of his near unconsciousness.

"We need a plan," I mused out loud, wiping away the blood from Trowa's forehead. "Anyone got anything?"

"No. I've been trying to think of one ever since I got thrown back in here but have been unable to come up with anything," Quatre answered, tending to the large knife wound on Trowa's arm.

"I say we just jump the guards when they come back with Heero," Wufei answered. I guess he wasn't asleep.

Trowa sat up and rubbed his head as I answered, "Five half dead teenagers against three plus buff, heavily armed guards. Oh I wonder who's going to win," I mocked sarcastically.

"At least I'm trying," Wufei snapped back.

"I think it's actually not a bad idea. I mean, how much worse of a situation can we get in?" Trowa responded.

"We could get dead. I'm pretty sure that's worse," I retorted.

"But we are willing to die for our cause anyway, so what's the big deal?" Wufei countered, standing and making his way over to us.

"But we haven't _done_ anything! I'd rather get out of here so that I can die fighting instead of uselessly in some OZ prison!" I shot back.

"I have to agree with Duo," Quatre put in. "And besides. We are too valuable for them to kill. They want us, our information, and our Gundams."

I exhaled sharply, causing my chest to sear. "What would Heero do?" I asked. We needed a tiebreaker.

"Jump them," we all answered at the same time.

"So it's settled then," Wufei responded. "When the guards return with Heero, we'll jump them and try to take their weapons."

--

It seemed like forever until the cell door slid open again. We watched in anticipation as the soldiers carelessly tossed in Heero's beaten, unconscious body.

The four of us had situated ourselves near the doorway while Heero was gone, making sure that we had as much time as possible to jump them.

I cried out in rage as the four of us launched ourselves at the three OZ soldiers, tackling them to the ground.

Pain erupted through my chest as I crashed to the floor with the guard that Trowa and I had taken on. It nearly stopped me in my tracks… _nearly._

I sent a strong punch to the side of the soldier's head, knocking him out instantly. My conscience screamed to torture him some more, to get back for what had been done to us, but there was no time.

I grabbed the guard's rifle while Trowa took his handgun.

Quatre, who seemed to be the least unscathed, hurried back into the cell with Wufei to get Heero. As they brought him out, supporting his weight between the two of them, I got a chance to see the extent of his injuries in the light of the bright hallway.

He was covered in blood, his head hanging limply. His green tank-top was torn and stained with red, as was his hair and skin. He had obviously pissed off General I-Have-Clearance with his monotone and lack of response to everything.

The five of us hurried down the hall, Trowa and I in the front. It hurt like hell to put weight on my foot, but I ignored it as best as I could. It was a heck of a lot easier said than done.

I heard yells and shouts coming from farther down the halls; they must've seen us escape through the security cams.

Suddenly, we were overcome by bullets. Trying to avoid getting shot, we all ducked into the closest hallway.

I peeked around the corner and fired several shots at the soldiers trying to capture us. Despite the pain I was in, I managed to focus enough to aim correctly.

However, we were terribly outnumbered. Trowa and I were the only ones defending our position as the other two tried to tend to Heero's wounds.

I let out a small cry of shock as a barrage of bullets pounded against the wall we were hiding behind. I didn't even feel it as the shots grazed my body. I just continued to fire.

Trowa ran out of bullets before I did, so I continued to shoot at those damn soldiers.

It wasn't long until my rifle ran out of ammo as well. But my hand continued to pull the trigger anyways; and the gun continued to try to fire, the pin trying to spark the gunpowder of a nonexistent bullet every time.

I didn't even react to the pain as a shot just barely grazed the side of my head. I merely stumbled back into the shadows, nearly falling against Trowa.

I put my hand to my temple, pulling it back to see my palm covered in blood. I really hoped that that bullet hadn't cut the artery there; I'd be done for if it had.

It was then that I finally felt the pain and dizziness. There was just something about seeing my own blood, and so much of it, at that; that made me feel strange. I couldn't describe it.

"Duo…! Are you okay?" that was Quatre.

I couldn't reply; I just sank to the floor as the icy claws of darkness greedily pulled me under.

--

When I awoke, I was slouched in that hard, metal, interrogation chair. The pain was horrendous, but I could handle it. The heavy stench of blood tickled my nose as I opened my eyes.

"It appears you and your little friends tried to escape; you should've known it was futile, Maxwell," said General State-The-Obvious; I could hear the evil smirk in his voice.

I instinctively tried to swing my arm to punch him in the face, but my wrists were bound behind my back. My shoulder screamed at the sudden attempt of movement; I must've gotten grazed by a bullet there.

I didn't fight it as he roughly grabbed me by the throat with both hands, using his thumbs to single out and nearly crush my windpipe. I rapidly began to asphyxiate. I then struggled with all I could, trying to get him to let go.

Finally, just before loss of oxygen sent me back into unconsciousness. Cain released me and I sank back into the chair, gasping.

"Great… wakeup call…" I panted sarcastically, "You should be… demoted…"

That little comment earned me a solid slap to the face; in other words, I just got bitch slapped. That was going to leave a mark, I thought bitterly.

Next thing I knew, I had been shoved to the floor. General Cain was kicking me in the stomach and chest, over and over again. I was sure that I would have at least twice as many broken ribs after this.

As the last kick connected with my chest, I knew something had just gone terribly wrong inside of me.

A searing pain shot through the entire right side of my chest, like I had just taken a bullet at pointblank. Only it wasn't a bullet, one of my broken ribs had punctured my lung; this was not good.

I instantly began to cough, despite the agony. Blood came to my lips, staining my teeth. My breath was labored, rasping in pained, shallow gasps. I felt faint.

Cain hoisted me up by my collar, smirking at my pain. I spat in his face.

"Dammit! You filthy wretch!" he screeched, launching me into the farthest wall.

I sank to the floor, still gasping. A moment later, General Cain lifted me up again, only to slam me into the edge of the hard metal table.

My eyes instantly widened as white-hot pain rocketed through my entire body. I heard my spine forcefully popping as I was bent backwards over the surface.

I must've cried out, temporarily giving Cain the satisfaction he sought, because he soon released his grip on me and I slid to the ground.

Before the pain even had a chance to fade, however, I had been roughly lifted up and deposited on the table. It was quite awkward, lying on my back with my hands bound behind me.

I didn't open my eyes until I felt a hand on my chest, up by my collarbone. My eyes shot open as I felt Cain jabbing his finger into the dip at the middle of my collarbone.

The pressure didn't exactly hurt, but it made me feel as if I couldn't breathe. I gagged, trying to writhe out from under the terrible feeling.

After what felt like an eternity, he removed his hand. I lay still, gasping for breath as my body struggled to function with only one effective lung. I wasn't even paying attention to my other injuries now; all that mattered was getting enough oxygen to keep me alive.

"Maxwell," General Cain demanded, "Who is in charge of your operation?"

Eyes closed, I smirked. I figured that he wouldn't kill me since I was so valuable, and my injuries probably couldn't get much worse, so I might as well have some fun. "No comment…"

I did not expect the sudden blow to the side of my neck. I could hardly feel the intense pain over everything else, but my body was overcome by involuntary spasms. It lasted only a few minutes, but left me twitching and aching.

"'No comment' is not a valid answer. I will ask you one more time, Maxwell, who is in charge of your operation?"

"Care to… repeat that…? I can't hear too well… with all this pain…" I mumbled with a smirk.

I heard Cain growl in frustration before speaking again, "Why did you and the other pilots come here?"

He was _so_ asking for me to mock him, "Well obviously… we were… captured…" I took a painful, shaky breath, "No thanks… to you… or your stupid son… by the way…"

I could tell, just by the tension in the air and the silence that he had just lost the last bit of his cool.

A moment later, I felt the cold blade of a knife go up against my throat, drawing a thin line of blood.

"Give me one reason not to," Cain hissed in rage.

I took a very shallow breath, carefully putting together my next words, "… None of the… information you get… from one of us… will make sense… without the others…"

He seemed to buy my excuse because the knife was gone a moment later. "Get this son of a bitch out of my sight," I heard him order before I was pulled from the table.

They didn't even bother knocking me out, for which I was glad, as the soldiers dragged me down the bright hallways back to the prison cell.

I kept my eyes closed the entire time, focusing completely on breathing evenly.

I eventually heard the sound of the cell door sliding open. I was carelessly tossed inside, like an old toy after playtime.

Chest searing, I drew in a sharp breath as I hit the ground. I barely heard the door slam shut several feet away.

"…Duo? I-is that you…?" Quatre's beaten voice came somewhere from my left. I could faintly here him crawling towards me.

"Are you guys… hurt?" I gasped, turning my head to look in his direction. I was sure he knew what I meant; of course we were all hurt, but I wanted to know if they too had gotten the shit beat out of them _again._

"Yeah…" he sighed, kneeling next to me now. "After they took you away… those soldiers… basically doubled the severity of our previous injuries… They must've seen you as our ringleader… since that General dragged you off right away…" From the tone of his voice, I could tell Quatre was in pain. It sounded like he had been hit in the face a few times, as well.

"Can you tell me the worst of your injuries…?" he asked after a moment.

I took a pained breath, "Punctured… right lung…"

"Oh no… I was afraid of that…" he sighed.

I didn't speak; it hurt too much to even breathe, let alone talk. I wanted to ask him how the others were, but I guess it'd have to wait until he felt the need to tell me. I hoped that would be soon; I was worried for my fellow pilots.

* * *

**So? Thanks again to ShinigamiDeathscytheSan for writing this for me. The ideas are starting to come back to me, so hopefully I'll be able to start working on this again.**


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